


Promise

by AnneCumberbatch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Caring Sherlock Holmes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Kissing, Light Petting, Love Confessions, M/M, Nearly Drowning, Nightmares, Post-Season/Series 04, Sharing a Bed, Sherlock (TV) Season/Series 04, Traumatised John, Traumatised Sherlock, Vulnerable John Watson, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneCumberbatch/pseuds/AnneCumberbatch
Summary: John blinked, shapes starting to form in the shadowy room. Sherlock was sitting on his bed, his hand resting on John’s shoulder, his face shrouded in darkness. “Sherlock?”“You were having a nightmare.” Sherlock released his shoulder and straightened, distancing himself.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 50
Kudos: 244





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After being pulled out of the well, Sherlock and John might have checked into a nearby hotel instead of travelling back to their homes to shower and recover.

Water lapped at his jaw, bitter and earthy. So cold, it slapped at his face before receding just enough for the frigid night air to numb his skin, causing the water in its return to feel almost warm. His arms grew heavier and heavier as they pushed through the water swirling up around him. The cold penetrated into his bones, crystalising his muscles. The dull heavy weight of the chain around his ankle pulled him further towards the ground, deeper into the water. Further away from the dim light at the top of the well. Summoning him towards certain death. His chest felt tight from gasping for air. His mouth now filled with water every time he tried to take a breath. Acrid rancid water. He choked, feeling the water pushing into his mouth, pulling him down, filling his lungs-

“John!”

John’s eyes flashed open in the darkness of the hotel room, his limbs scrambling in the sheets. He gasped deeply, feeling air flow down his oesophagus and into his lungs. Sweet, sweet air. A hand on his shoulder brought him back to focus. “John?”

John blinked, shapes starting to form in the shadowy room. Sherlock was sitting on his bed, his hand resting on John’s shoulder, his face shrouded in darkness. “Sherlock?”

“You were having a nightmare.” Sherlock released his shoulder and straightened, distancing himself.

John continued to breath, feeling himself rise from the dregs of sleep. “I’m sorry.” He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I told you we should have gotten two rooms instead.”

“Two doubles was cheaper.”

“When did you ever care about money?” John lifted his head up and squinted up at him.

“I wasn’t asleep anyways.”

“Oh.” John lay his head back on the pillow. “You don’t have to keep the room dark if you wanted to read or work.”

“It was fine.”

John nodded. “Bit creepy to be sitting in the dark while I’m asleep.”

Sherlock stiffened and rose to stand beside the bed. “Apologies.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” John propped himself up on an elbow and reached out for him, his hand resting face down on the sheets between them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What exactly did you mean by calling me creepy?” Sherlock made no move to sit.

“I didn’t mean you, really.”

“There’s no one else here, John.”

“I know, I meant more of the general thing... sitting in the dark while your friend’s asleep. Sort of stalker-ish behavior.”

“I wasn’t sitting up to stalk you. What kind of information could I gain anyways while you’re asleep? What a stupid way to stalk someone if I was trying to stalk someone, which I wasn’t.”

“No, I know. I know you weren’t.” John ran a hand across his face. “I didn’t mean you were.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I know I’m not. Look, it’s fine.”

“I wasn’t sitting up intentionally; I couldn’t sleep.”

John lowered his hand to look up at his friend. “Ah.”

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably. “Yes.”

“… You alright?”

“Clearly not, I think.”

“Oh.” John shifted and sat up in bed, his hand smoothing the comforters over his lap.

“Neither are you.”

“No, that’s true.”

“Especially given the nightmare you’ve just had.”

“I’ve already agreed with you.”

“You’re clearly dreaming about the well.”

“Yes, thank you, no need to continue.”

“A traumatic experience, most assuredly. If I had been a few minutes later, you would have most definitely drowned.”

“Sherlock.”

“You’re aware of this, of course, evidenced by your nightmare which was most likely of that scenario.”

“Sherlock.”

“You, drowning in the well, being pulled under by the water.”

“Sherlock!”

Sherlock’s mouth snapped shut and he fell silent for a few moments. The rustling of his fingers rubbing together could be heard. “Went a bit far with that.”

“Yes, yes you did.” John’s voice was tight. The sheets were crushed in his fists.

“Apologies.”

“You can’t just do that.”

“I know.” Sherlock turned back to his own bed a few feet away. “I said I was sorry.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Apologise? You told me it was polite to.”

“No, not that. I mean, yes you should apologise, but I meant you don’t have to leave.”

Sherlock turned back to face him and even in the darkness, John could feel Sherlock’s raised eyebrow pointed at him. “I’m not leaving. I was simply returning to my bed. Which is right here.”

John looked down at the sheets he could barely see and smoothed them out again. “I know. But you could stay over here.”

Sherlock stood still for a few moments. “I will need you to be quite clear with what you mean, John.”

“I am being clear.”

“No.” Sherlock clipped back at him. “You’re really not.”

“Right.” John nodded. He took a deep breath, feeling his chest expand as it took in the air. “Come sit on my bed again.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“Why?”

“Jesus, Sherlock, just come here.”

Sherlock was silent for a few more minutes. “John.”

“I need to know you’re here. You’re close.” John’s volume dropped with this confession, resulting in a whisper which still managed to feel like a scream in the darkness. “I need to know for certain. I need you to be over here.”

Within a moment, Sherlock nudged at John, moving him from the middle to the side of the twin bed before climbing onto the mattress and sitting on the other half with his back against the headboard. John closed his eyes and reached out, his hand landing on Sherlock’s knee. He released the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding and squeezed gently. They sat in silence together for a while. Sherlock eventually covered John’s hand with his own and squeezed it in response. “I’m here.”

John nodded and closed his eyes tightly, a cold shiver running through his body. The sound of the lapping water coming up around his head echoed in his ear and he held tightly to Sherlock’s knee.

“You’re here with me. We’re alive, John. You’re safe.”

“You’re safe too.” John whispered into the black air. It was nearly a question.

“Yes, I am as well.” Sherlock’s voice had lowered into a soothing murmur. “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep.”

John hesitated for a moment before removing his hand from Sherlock and sliding back down until he was lying on his back under the blankets. He could feel the heat from Sherlock’s hip close to his forehead and without thinking, he turned his head until he felt the soft brush of Sherlock’s pyjamas and the warm solidity of Sherlock’s hip beneath his brow.

Sherlock tensed for a moment before relaxing, his legs sliding down until they were flat against the mattress. He gingerly lowered a hand until it rested against the side of John’s head, fingers slipping through the short silver blonde hair and rubbing gently against John’s scalp. “Sleep, John.”

John closed his eyes at the touch and felt himself succumbing to his exhausted body. “Don’t leave.”

“I won’t. I’ll always be here for you, John.” Sherlock gently rubbed John’s head, trying to soothe him into sleep.

“Promise me.” John murmured; his lips muffled as they pressed into Sherlock’s upper thigh right below his hip.

“I promise.”

John nodded slowly. They were still for a few long minutes, listening to each other breathing, before John finally fell asleep, nestled closely against Sherlock.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't help myself but continue. Next morning!

John woke in the early morning with brown curls smothering his face. He wriggled his nose to relieve the itch before realising his arm was wrapped firmly around the body lying next to him and that body was Sherlock. He lay there for long minutes, noting how his shorter body had curled protectively around his lanky bedmate. Also noting how Sherlock’s hand was holding tightly to his t-shirt and keeping him close. He shifted slightly and was startled when Sherlock whispered into the room slowly greying with morning sun. “Don’t.”

John’s arm tightened reflexively around Sherlock. “I won’t.”

Sherlock’s hand tugged slightly on John’s shirt. “Don’t let go.”

“I said I won’t.”

Sherlock nodded, lying in the bed, looking up at the ceiling. After a few minutes, he sighed softly and closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly towards John.

“Did you sleep at all?”

Sherlock shook his head, eyes still closed.

“Okay.” John rested his head against the pillow.

“Can we stay like this for a little while?”

“Course we can.” John shifted slightly, holding Sherlock closer.

“Thank you.”

Time passed and the sun slowly rose, casting dusty shadows across the beds. Both men lay still in the bed, breathing quietly together.

“I’m sorry.” John murmured into Sherlock’s hair.

“No need.” Sherlock whispered into the air.

“No, there is need. I’m sorry. For everything. For everything I’ve done.” John pressed his face closer into the curls. “I understand if you can’t forgive me.”

“Don’t be an idiot, of course I forgive you.” Sherlock tugged at John’s shirt.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. Or your friendship.”

“It’s not exactly a knighthood. You suit me just fine.” Sherlock’s lips quirked.

“I’ve done horrible things to you.” John’s eyes closed tightly.

“I just said I forgive you.”

“I’m so sorry.” John’s voice broke.

Sherlock’s chest rose and fall as he sighed deeply. “John.”

“Mm?”

“Do shut up.”

John snorted slightly. “I’m trying to apologise.”

“You did. I forgave you. Let’s move on, please.”

“Fine.” John started shifting.

Sherlock grabbed at him. “I didn’t say you could move.”

“My shoulder’s cramping.” John froze, his arm still wrapped around Sherlock’s chest.

Sherlock made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

After a moment’s consideration, John tugged him until Sherlock rolled over with him. Sherlock landed softly with his face against John’s chest and with both of John’s arms wrapped around him. After brief pause, Sherlock nuzzled against him. “I suppose this is satisfactory.”

John rolled his eyes, a smile floating around the corners of his mouth. “Excellent.”

They lay there together until the sun shone brightly around the corners of the window curtain. Sherlock, with his eyes closed, soaking up the warmth of John’s body, the strength of his embrace, and the comfort of his beating heart. “Is this behavior normal for friendships?”

John considered the question before responding, “After significant trauma, it can be.”

“Ah.”

John followed up, “That being said, if you want a hug, you can also just ask.”

Sherlock was quiet.

John thought for a minute. “Please tell me this wasn’t an elaborate contrivance for you to get a hug. Because that would be _really_ not on, Sherlock.”

“It wasn’t!” Sherlock raised his head and looked at him. “I had no idea any of this would happen. I promise.”

John looked down at him, their faces only about a foot apart. “I believe you.”

Sherlock looked back at him. “Good. Because I’m telling the truth.”

John reached out and brushed an errant curl back into place. “I know.”

Sherlock swallowed and his eyes darted to the side before making the choice to rest his head firmly against John’s chest again. John’s hand came up and brushed Sherlock’s hair back before settling on his neck right below his ear, his thumb brushing his cheekbone. Sherlock closed his eyes, pressing into the touch. John smiled and brushed his thumb against Sherlock’s cheek repeatedly.

“John.” Sherlock choked out, his hand coming up and gently holding onto John’s wrist, keeping his hand in place.

John, in response, merely tightened his grip on Sherlock. Sherlock closed his eyes tightly, pressing close. John tilted his head up and brushed a kiss onto the top of Sherlock’s curls. He rubbed his thumb over Sherlock’s cheekbone. “If this isn’t alright… I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be!” Sherlock held tightly to him, pressing John’s hand firmly to his head. “Please… don’t stop.”

John smiled slightly and pressed a second kiss to the crown of Sherlock’s head more firmly. “I wasn’t sure…”

“I thought you weren’t- that you didn’t-” Sherlock lifted his head and looked John in the eyes.

John lifted his other hand and cupped Sherlock’s jaw. “I have made _many_ mistakes. You are my greatest regret in so many ways.”

Sherlock’s eyes glistened. “John…”

“I love you.” John spoke softly, his eyes gentle. “I think I’ve always loved you. And I’m a fucking fool for having treated you like I did. I don’t deserve to even be around you.”

“Stop that.” Sherlock whispered, wrapping his fingers around John’s hand, still pressed against his head.

“I swear, if you let me, I’ll spend every day treating you like a king. Like you deserve. If you’ll let me.”

“You have Rosie…”

John’s expression faltered. “I know having a child around would disrupt things. If that’s unacceptable, I understand-”

Sherlock surged forward and pressed his lips against John’s, shocked and enamored by their warmth and softness.

John held him tightly and kissed him back, sucking softly at Sherlock’s bottom lip and pulling him close.

After they parted, John reached up and brushed another curl off Sherlock’s forehead. “So, I guess it’s alright?”

Sherlock growled softly in the back of his throat and pressed another kiss to John’s mouth. “Move in with me. I want you and Rosie at Baker Street. I want you both there with me.”

“Our family.”

Sherlock kissed him again, unable to resist tasting the sunshine of John’s smile. He rested his forehead against John’s. “Our family.”

“We’ve always been your family.” John ducked his head and nipped at Sherlock’s lips. “Just been shit about showing you that.”

“John.” Sherlock dug his arms under John’s torso and held him tightly. “I love you.”

John ran a hand over Sherlock’s back. “I love you too.”

Sherlock smiled. “Promise?”

John grinned. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Questions, comments, and critiques are always welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, questions, critiques are always welcome.


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